


Lux Aeterna

by ChasingXepher



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: AND IT'S ALL IN MY HEAAAAAAD, Angst, Blow Jobs, Crests (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), M/M, Masturbation, Mr. Brightside starts playing in the BG, Nightmares, Sylvain Jose Gautier Has Self-Worth Issues, Sylvain fears being used, Sylvain has a nightmare about Felix, especially from the one he loves AKA Felix, this was supposed to be angst w a happy ending but then i hated the ending so you just get smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingXepher/pseuds/ChasingXepher
Summary: Sylvain hated himself. Always have, always will.But he hated himself, even more, when he fisted his dick out from its confines and began to edge himself thinking of the man he so desperately loved.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Lux Aeterna

~

Darkness consumed him. His eyes, his nose, his mouth. Nothing but the sickening caress as it snaked its way around his limbs like shackles. It tangled around his neck, snaked its way around his backside, nestled between his legs. It was suffocating.

But not as suffocating as the crest seared into his skin like a branded tattoo, glowing in the darkness for all to see. It was a beacon of light in the pitch-black but Sylvain didn't want it – he didn't want it at all. The crest glowed, dimming in and out, in and out, inviting, teasing...

And then he saw them, apparating in the darkness to loom next to him – his crest inviting them in like a flag on display. Men and women whose faces were obscured by darkness – he couldn't make out their features, only that their presence struck anxiety in him and he struggled to get away.

But where was there to go when the darkness so freely consumed him? Shackling him to his crest like the day he was born. Death would be a way to end it, he thought. But how fair would that be when the rest of Fodlan would be shackled by the same fate? And yet the thought of ceasing to exist comforted him in some small way.

Maybe it would be better that way.

He felt the people get closer, some faces he was able to recognize, others warped beyond recognition. Some were past lovers, people he flirted with, or dated but then let go, his fault, he assured them, never ever theirs. Others were people he'd seen in passing, but some were new. More notches in his bedpost.

Some of the hands drifted towards his open chest, which was waving his crest on display like a flag. Their touch burned his skin as they reached for their coveted forbidden fruit, making Sylvain wish to tear their fingers clean off.

Others snaked their way around his body, hands tenderly caressing his arms, lips pressing against his jugular, claiming his flesh. Tiny kisses, burning hot touches searing into his flesh. Soft whispers. Ghostly thoughts against his brain.

_Oh, Sylvain. I want you. I want your crest babies. I want you. Let me be your queen. Let me be your king. Please._

_I want your crest._

_I want your crest._

Over and over and over again. Again, and again. Their thoughts and whispers seared into his flesh, muffled noise in his brain, like a broken record. Repeating. Cementing itself into his existence.

He felt deft hands snake their way down the expanse of his chest and to the hem of his pants, shimmying them down with quick reflexes. He felt a nip to his neck, one of the shadowed figures sucking at the flesh, causing him to arch his back. When he opened his eyes to see who was between his legs he felt the breath rush out of him.

His eyes widened, shaking, and he shook his head, whispering, “No, no, no, not you, too.” Anyone but you. What kind of cruel sadistic world would do this to him? He prayed it was just a hallucination in this sick acid trip of a dream, but when he shook his head and opened his eyes he was still there, settled between his legs, palming his bulge, licking his lips.

 _Felix_.

His best friend. The one person he'd never thought would use him. The one person who couldn't care less about his status, or crest, or rank, or any trivial thing. The person, who he swore, would love him unconditionally, above everything else. Why? Why was he here? With them.

 _Them_.

Felix's chocolate brown eyes met Sylvain's in a fiery lust-filled gaze. His lips, which were normally set in a tight frown, were curved upward in a sly smile. It was so out-of-character to the point that it caused a bubble of hysteria to rush through Sylvain's veins. His voice caught on his name, tumbling out in a hushed, almost pleading, tone, “Felix!”

If Felix heard him he pretended not to, instead catching his eyes again, while darting his tongue out to lick his lips like Sylvain was a piece of meat to devour. His palm grinding against the bulge protruding from the thin material of his underwear. Sylvain couldn't help but rut at the touch and the action elicited a snarky smile from the man between his legs.

He still felt the imprints of fingers along his spine, his thighs, his chest... the ghostly touches of all the other people but none of them seared just as strongly as Felix's. Felix felt like he was burning him from the inside out, lighting him aflame. Damned to hell just like he was from the start.

Felix's hands teased the waistband of the cotton separating him from what he truly desired. He palmed at the bulge, watching with a sick satisfaction as Sylvain keened. That devilish smile widened more when he finally decided to lean down and take the waistband in his teeth, sliding it down Sylvain's milky thighs, aching erection finally free.

“Look at you,” Felix breathed, eyes devouring the sight before him. He gripped the base of Sylvain's dick with a cold hand, causing the redhead to whimper. “You're perfect.”

 _Perfect_.

He wanted to laugh. What kind of pathetic joke was that? He was anything but perfect, after all, what good was he without his crest? He was nothing — absolutely nothing. No matter what he and everyone else thought. It was all just lies anyway.

A bead of pre-cum formed at the tip and Felix wasted no time teasing the head, swiping it with his thumb. Sylvain had to bite his tongue from crying out. Felix made eye-contact with him, taking his thumb and swiping his tongue along it before jamming it in his mouth, sucking on it like it was his dick. He released the appendage, with a slick pop, and then smirked at Sylvain.

“You taste so sweet,” He teased, hand reaching out to wrap around the base, causing Sylvain's breath to hitch again, dick twitching in Felix's cold grasp. “And that was barely just a taste. Imagine how you'll taste when you come – your thick seed coating the back of my throat like honey. I'll swallow every last drop.”

His breath tickled the head of Sylvain's dick and the soft action caused Sylvain to tremble and his dick to twitch in Felix's hand. “You're throbbing,” Felix commented, squeezing the base of his shaft in a lazy rhythm. His eyes met Sylvain's and the bedroom eyes he kept giving him were enough to practically make him come right then and there.

But he didn't mean anything to Felix, he reminded himself with a sick self-loathing mantra caressing his brain. He's just going to use me like everyone else. You're only good for your crest. You're only good for your crest. You're nothing but a crest whore.

His breath hitched when he felt Felix squeezed his balls in his hand as if testing to see how full and overflowing he was. He shuddered when he felt his hot breath against the head, tongue slipping out to lap at the pre-cum dribbling down. His lazy and languid motions drove Sylvain wild and if it weren't for the shackles of darkness and shameful hands snaking their way around his body, he might have melted right then and there.

Sylvain saw white when Felix's mouth finally opened to take him in, going deep, so deep. The walls of Felix's mouth were hot and needy, and the taste of his tongue against his dick was practically enough to send him over the edge. He knew how to use his teeth, gently letting them run along while his tongue did most of the work; the friction made him see white. He felt his balls clench and he couldn't keep the moans from tumbling out of his mouth, all while his mind was screaming, _Felix doesn’t care about you, and he never will. You're just good for your crest. That's all you'll ever be good for._

The hot searing wetness of Felix's tongue coated his dick as it expertly explored every inch of Sylvain that it could. Felix's mouth felt so hot and he couldn't help but thrust against the friction. The mouth was egging him on, begging for him to release. He felt that buildup sensation settle in his stomach, his toes start to curl, his balls start to clench. Between the friction from Felix's mouth, to his hands that knew just how to squeeze, Sylvain came undone, throwing his head back, crying out as he came.

He could barely see through his high as he spurt his seed into Felix's open mouth, the man between his legs swallowing every last drop with a satisfied smile. When he pulled away, he couldn't help but murmur Sylvain's name like some kind of wanton prayer as he lapped up the rest of his seed off the length, the sickening reminder flooring him.

“I want you, Sylvain,” A dirty whisper. “I need you. Give me all of you. Give me your crest.”

~

Sylvain cried out, sitting upright in bed, drenching in sweat and cum, apparently, his dream was enough for him to make a mess in reality. Cursing under his breath he lay there, disgust and self-loathing overtaking him. The shock and fear from his dream overtook him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to look Felix in the eye after this. He didn't want to think Felix could be like that. That Felix would ever use him, but unfortunately, anxiety was a deadly demon and Sylvain still couldn't banish the beast from his mind.

Not to mention this crush he harboured was a beast all on its own. One that came to fruition at the ripe age of 13. Hell, maybe even 10. One he kept quiet, secret, hidden under the floorboards of his mind until death do them part as far as he was concerned. Felix, would never, ever, like him. There was no use pretending otherwise.

 _You're just wanted for your crest and that's all you'll ever be good for._ Felix was too good for him. Far, far, too good for him. Sylvain would never ever be good enough. It's not like he was particularly smart or good at anything, and if it weren't for his crest his strength with his lance would be null and void as well. And his personality? What an absolute joke.

Sylvain didn't know if he even had one anymore. He was so two-faced, so wishy-washy hiding behind a facade. His charms and his good looks were probably the only thing he had going for him. If you could even call his looks that. _And your crest_. His brain reminded him, taunting with a whisper. But everything else? His jokester, playboy attitude? Such a fake. What an absolute fucking fake.

Sylvain thought, perhaps, that the only fraction of his personality was what was showing right now. Insecurity, self-loathing, self-hate, envy, and anxiety. The things he didn't show to anyone. The things they couldn't see, lest his mask crumbled. And hide behind it he did quite well, for they would never ever know what a trainwreck he was inside.

He could weave flirty little lies through his pretty little teeth, spit kissing on someone's sickbed, steal their heart, and then break it by pushing them away, but that's all there was. Sylvain would never, ever, stay. How could he? When they would just use him? So the fake facade he nestled himself within was but a fraction of who he truly was. Just a man with a crest masquerading as a whore to try and keep the insecurities at bay, but he could never ever let them in, let alone let Felix in. Couldn't even begin to tangle him up in his kisses, his arms, his sheets. Could never do that to himself because it would just end up the same and he would be used and he would break his own heart and then go on breaking his. He could never ever do that to Felix. Felix was too good for that.

A long sigh erupted from his lungs and he pushed his sweat-drenched bangs out of his face. He was a mess. Emotionally and physically, and he felt like hell. The dream kept taunting him and teasing him, easily playing like a movie on repeat. One he wished he could forget forever.

Forget Felix settled between his legs. Forget Felix's achingly hot tongue as it danced across his dick like he was made to pleasure Sylvain and Sylvain only. Forget the way his head bobbed up and down as he deep-throated the redhead, the way he could drag his teeth against the flesh so teasingly. The way he swallowed Sylvain's seed like it was the sweetest thing in the whole damn world.

The thoughts brought back the ache between his legs yet again, straining against the material of his bottoms, begging to breathe. Sylvain hated himself, but he hated himself, even more, when he fisted his dick out from the confines and began to edge himself thinking of the man he so desperately loved.

He started slowly at first, nice and steady, arching his back when the touch would become too much to bear. Pre-cum was already dripping down the side of his length so he swiped the top of the head with his thumb pretending it was Felix's tongue. He rutted against the friction, biting the back of his hand to keep from crying out as a wave of pleasure began to build. And it build and it build and it build, until he was so close.

His dick twitched, throbbing in his hands as he pictured Felix between his legs, stopping with a teasing smirk upon his lips. Oh, how he'd tease him so. And he'd stroke him slowly, so so slow, just watching as Sylvain's face would flush, how his lips would open in a small 'o' shape. How his fingers would clench the bedsheets. _Or his hair,_ Sylvain thought. And how he'd caress his inner thighs making him squirm.

He'd wait with bated breath, an unspoken plea on his lips, one that Felix would coax out of him.

“ _Beg_ ,” He'd say. “ _tell me what you want.”_

And Sylvain would. How could he not? He'd beg, cheeks flushed, he'd beg with his pretty little eyes.

“ _Please, Felix. Please. I need it. I need you.”_

And Felix would laugh, bubbling up his throat as his eyes would dance, clearly enjoying Sylvain squirming under his ministrations. He'd caress his thigh, murmuring, _“Good boy, Sylvain. You're such a good boy.”_

The praise would practically make him come right then and there. He'd swallow hard and wait because Felix had him wrapped around his little finger. Oh how tightly so he was woven, expertly, with no way to break free besides with a sharp knife that would cut the cord.

_“Who do you belong to, Sylvain?”_

The question would cause him to shudder, tremble underneath the power that Felix held over him.

“ _You_ ,” Sylvain would whimper, spreading his legs wider as Felix would settle between them like the perfect puzzle piece. He'd enter and he'd fit just right, and he'd coax him again to which Sylvain would cry out as he slammed against his walls. “ _You and only you.”_

And Felix would thrust and he'd thrust, sweet hot kisses against his lips, his chest, tiny praises strewn in between.

 _“I'm yours_ ,” Sylvain would sob, tears prickling the corners of his eyes as his pleasure would build. “ _I'm yours_.”

And Felix would claim him, growling, “ _Mine_ ,” as he bit his neck, bruising it and marking the flesh.

His name would tumble off of Sylvain's lips as he thrust, each thrust met with his name, like a precious prayer of Felix, Felix, Felix. And he'd fist his hands in his hair when he'd come, he'd wrap his legs around Felix's waist, his toes would curl, he'd throw his head back when he'd scream his name.

“Felix!” Sylvain couldn't help the sharp gasp that entered reality as he spilled, milky white seed coating his stomach. He slammed back against the pillow so hard it took the breath out of him and he just lay there dazed, counting each spur of cum that released.

Five.

All because of him.

When the high wore off Sylvain lay thinking about him, knowing there was no way he could face him after that dream. Not today, not tomorrow. He wouldn't know when but it sure as hell wasn't now.

Sylvain hated himself.

~

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was another thing I did for Nanowrimo that I wasn't going to upload bc the ending was rushed but, I figured people would like the smut so I give you THE FOOD!!!! The nightmare scene was inspired by this artwork:
> 
> https://twitter.com/nmfksg/status/1163290941228081152?s=20
> 
> As always scream about these boys and 3 houses with me on Twitter~


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